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THE KING 

OF THE 

GOLDEN RIVER 


































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It ivas the most extraordinary looking little gentleman 

he had ever seen. 


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THE KING 

r of the 

GOLDEN RIVER 

' or irhe 

BLACK BROTHERS 

A Legend of Stiria 
*r 

JOHN RUSKIN 

With, drawings by 

ELIZABETH M.FISHER 


Lg 



5 





















The King of the Golden River 

Copyright 1927 

By Albert Whitman & Company 



Other Illustrated 
“Just Right Editions” 
of Children’s Classics 

The Pied Piper of Hamelin 
By Robert Browning 
Illustrated by James McCracken 

The Dog of Flanders 

By Ouida 

Illustrated by Harvey Fuller 

The Man Without A Country 
By Edward Everett Hale 
Illustrated by Milo Winter 

The Little Lame Prince 

By Dinah Mulock 

Illustrated by Violet Moore Higgins 


“A JUST RIGHT BOOK 
Printed in the U. S. A. 


6 


SEP 2077 






CHAPTER I 

How the Agricultural System of the Black 
Brothers was Interfered With by South-West 
Wind, Esquire . 17 

CHAPTER II 

Of the Proceedings of the Three Brothers After 
the Visit of South-West Wind, Esquire; and 
How Little Gluck Had an Interview With the 
King of the Golden River. 53 

CHAPTER III 

How Mr. Hans Set Off on an Expedition to the 
Golden River, and How He Prospered Therein. 75 

CHAPTER IV 

How Mr. Schwartz Set Off on an Expedition to 
the Golden River, and How He Prospered 
Therein . 94 


CHAPTER V 

How Little Gluck Set Off on an Expedition to the 
Golden River, and How He Prospered Therein; 


With Other Matters of Interest.102 

Biographical Note .119 



7 








LIST OF 

ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 


It Was the Most Extraordinary Looking Little 

Gentleman He Had Ever Seen.Frontispiece 

Gluck Was Left to Mind the Roast.. 25 

The Old Gentleman Sat Himself Down on the 
Hob With the Top of His Cap Accommodated 

Up the Chimney. 35 

“Amen,” Said the Little Gentleman. 39 

There They Lay All Three. 43 

“What’s That?” Cried Schwartz. 47 

Reclined the Little Old Gentleman, Cap and All. . 49 

All Their Money Was Gone. 54 

“Suppose We Turn Goldsmiths”. 55 

Schwartz Averred That Once He Had Seen Them 

Wink . 59 

“That’s Right!” Said the Dwarf. 69 





8 













LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Continued Page 

The Dwarf Took Two Turns of Three Feet Long 71 

“I Am the King of the Golden River”. 73 

“Oh!” Cried Poor Gluck. 74 

The Two Brothers Drew Their Swords and Began 

Fighting . 77 

Schwartz Himself Peeping Out of the Bars. 79 

Hans Set Off at an Imprudent Rate. 83 

Resemblance to Living Features, Distorted and 

Scornful . 87 

He Saw His Brother Hans Lying Exhausted on 

the Path . 99 

The Priest Gave Him Some Holy Water.103 

Got Up and Ran Down the Hill.107 

The Dog Sprang Up.Ill 



9 

































m 

INTRODUCTION 

Among the select group of Children’s 
Classics which have endured and sur¬ 
vived the first period of possible neg¬ 
lect and give full promise of a perennial 
and increasing popularity, there is none 
that surpasses either in artistry or 
charm the delightful and imaginative 
fairy tale of The King of the Golden 
River. Written in 1841 for private cir¬ 
culation among a few friends and hesi¬ 
tatingly released for publication in 
1850, this clever story bids fair to be¬ 
come one of the deathless tales for 
children. 

It is a rare literary event that a story, 
written solely for the pleasure and 



11 


amusement of the author and a few in¬ 
timate friends, ever wins enduring 
fame and popularity when published. 
Possibly for the reason that the author, 
released from the exigencies of consid¬ 
ering salability and popular appeal, 
ignores the tastes and opinions of his 
reading public with a too frequent au¬ 
dacity. But such has not been the fate 
of John Ruskin’s fairy tale. 

It is perhaps only just to repeat the 
notice that Ruskin’s publishers issued 
in the first edition of 1850 in deference 
to his reluctance to have his tale 
published: 

“The Publishers think it due to the 
Author of this Fairy Tale to state the 
circumstances under which it appears. 

“The King of the Golden River was 
written in 1841, at the request of a very 


12 


young lady, and solely for her amuse¬ 
ment, without any idea of publication. 
It has since remained in the possession 
of a friend, to whose suggestion, and 
the passive assent of the Author, the 
Publishers are indebted for the oppor¬ 
tunity of printing it.” 

It is interesting to note in passing 
that the “very young lady,” for whom 
Ruskin wrote this story while at the 
age of twenty-two, was a young Scotch 
maiden, Euphemia Chalmers Gray, 
whom he married seven years later. 

Ruskin’s attitude toward The King 
of the Golden River was always one of 
deprecation. In Praeterita he speaks of 
it. “The King of the Golden River was 
written to amuse a little girl; and being 
a fairly good imitation of Grimm and 
Dickens, mixed with a little true Alpine 


13 


feeling of my own, has been rightly 
pleasing to nice children, and good for 
them. But it is totally valueless, for all 
that. I can no more write a story than 
compose a picture.” 

How unjust Ruskin’s criticism of his 
own work is, becomes immediately ap¬ 
parent to the reader of the story. It is 
far more than a “pleasing” story “for 
nice children”; it is a beautiful picture 
by one of the greatest prose painters of 
England; it is a homage to beauty in 
prose rendered in prose that is itself a 
thing of beauty. 

And so it remains, a delightful classic 
for children that love a good and pic¬ 
turesque tale, quaintly told. 

W. Montgomery Major 


14 


THE KING 


of the 


GOLDEN RIVER 



A valley of the most surprising and luxuriant fertility 

16 




































THE KING OF THE GOLDEN 
RIVER 
or 

THE BLACK BROTHERS 


CHAPTER I. 

How the Agricultural System of the 
Black Brothers was Interfered 
With by South-West Wind, 
Esquire. 

N A secluded and moun¬ 
tainous part of Stiria there 
'was, in old time, a valley of 
the most surprising and luxuriant fer¬ 
tility. It was surrounded, on all sides, 
by steep and rocky mountains, rising 
into peaks, which were always covered 
with snow, and from which a number 
of torrents descended in constant cata- 
17 




18 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


racts. One of these fell westward, over 
the face of a crag so high, that, when 
the sun had set to everything else, and 
all below was darkness, his beams still 
shone full upon this waterfall, so 
that it looked like a shower of gold. 
It was, therefore, called by the people 
of the neighborhood, the Golden 
River. It was strange that none of 
these streams fell into the valley it¬ 
self. They all descended on the other 
side of the mountains, and wound away 
through broad plains and by populous 
cities. But the clouds were drawn so 
constantly to the snowy hills, and 
rested so softly in the circular hollow, 
that in time of drought and heat, when 
all the country round was burnt up, 
there was still rain in the little valley; 
and its crops were so heavy and its hay 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


19 



so high, and its apples so red, and its 
grapes so blue, and its wine so rich, 
and its honey so sweet, that it was a 
marvel to every one who beheld it, and 
was commonly called the Treasure 
Valley. 

The whole of this little valley be¬ 
longed to three brothers, called 
Schwartz, Hans, and Gluck. Schwartz 
and Hans, the two elder brothers, were 
very ugly men, with overhanging eye¬ 
brows and small dull eyes, which were 
always half shut, so that you couldn’t 
see into them, and always fancied they 
saw very far into you. They lived by 




20 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 

t farming the Treasure Valley. 

and very good farmers they 
were. They killed everything 
that did not pay for its eat¬ 
ing. They shot the black- 

Hans 

birds because they pecked the 
fruit; and killed the hedgehogs, lest 
they should suck the cows; they poi¬ 
soned the crickets for eating the crumbs 
in the kitchen; and smothered the 
cicades, which used to sing all summer 
in the lime trees. They worked their 
servants without any wages, till they 
would not work any more, and then 
quarreled with them, and turned them 
out of doors without paying them. It 
would have been very odd, if with such 
a farm, and such a system of farming, 
they hadn’t got very rich; and very rich 
they did get. They generally contrived 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


21 


to keep their corn by them till 
it was very dear, and then sell 
it for twice its value; they 
had heaps of gold lying about 
on their floors, yet it was 
never known that they had 
given so much as a penny or a crust in 
charity; they never went to mass; 
grumbled perpetually at paying tithes, 
and were, in a word, of so cruel and 
grinding a temper, as to receive from all 
those with whom they had any dealings, 
the nickname of the “Black Brothers.” 

The youngest brother, Gluck, was as 
completely opposed, in both appearance 
and character, to his seniors as could 
possibly be imagined or desired. He 
was not above twelve years old, fair, 
blue-eyed, and kind in temper to every 
living thing. He did not, of course, 



Schwartz 


22 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


agree particularly well with his broth¬ 
ers, or rather, they did not agree with 
him. He was usually appointed to the 
honorable office of turnspit, when there 
was anything to roast, which was not 
often; for, to do the brothers justice, 
they were hardly less sparing upon 
themselves than upon other people. At 
other times he used to clean the shoes, 
floors, and sometimes the plates, occa¬ 
sionally getting what was left on them, 
by way of encouragement, and a whole¬ 
some quantity of dry blows, by way of 
education. 

Things went on in this manner for a 
long time. At last came a very wet 
summer, and everything went wrong in 
the country around. The hay had hardly 
been got in, when the haystacks were 
floated bodily down to the sea by an 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


23 


inundation; the vines were 
cut to pieces with the hail, the 
corn was all killed by a black 
blight; only in the Treasure 
Valley, as usual, all was safe. 

As it had rain when there was 
rain nowhere else, so it had sun when 
there was sun nowhere else. Everybody 
came to buy corn at the farm, and went 
away pouring maledictions on the Black 
Brothers. They asked what they liked, 
and got it, except from the poor people, 
who could only beg, and several of 
whom were starved at their very door, 
without the slightest regard or notice. 

It was drawing towards winter, and 
very cold weather, when one day the 
two elder brothers had gone out, with 
their usual warning to little Gluck, who 
was left to mind the roast, that he was 



Gluck 


24 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


to let nobody in, and give nothing out. 
Gluck sat down quite close to the fire, 
for it was raining very hard, and the 
kitchen walls were by no means dry or 
comfortable looking. He turned and 
turned, and the roast got nice and 
brown. “What a pity,” thought Gluck, 
“my brothers never ask anybody to din¬ 
ner. I’m sure, when they’ve got such a 
nice piece of mutton as this, and nobody 
else has got so much as a piece of dry 
bread, it would do their hearts good to 
have somebody to eat it with them.” 

Just as he spoke, there come a double 
knock at the house door, yet heavy and 
dull, as though the knocker had been 
tied up—more like a puff than a knock. 

“It must be the wind,” said Gluck; 
“nobody else would venture to knock 
double knocks at our door.” 





Gluck was left to mind the roast. 

25 























THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 27 


No; it wasn’t the wind; there it came 
again very hard, and what was particu¬ 
larly astounding, the knocker seemed 
to be in a hurry, and not to be in the 
least afraid of the consequences. Gluck 
went to the window, opened it, and put 
his head out to see who it was. 

It was the most extraordinary look¬ 
ing little gentleman he had ever seen 
in his life. He had a very large nose, 
slightly brass-colored; his cheeks were 
very round, and very red, and might 
have warranted a supposition that he 
had been blowing a refractory fire for 
the last eight-and-forty hours; his eyes 
twinkled merrily through long silky 
eyelashes, his mustaches curled twice 
round like a corkscrew on each side of 
his mouth, and his hair, of a curious 
mixed pepper-and-salt color, descended 





28 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 

far over his shoulders. He 
was about four-feet-six in 
height, and wore a conical 
pointed cap of nearly the 
same altitude, decorated 
with a black feather some 
three feet long. His doublet 
was prolonged behind into 
something resembling a vio¬ 
lent exaggeration of what is 
now termed a “swallow 
tail,” but was much obscured 
by the swelling folds of an 
enormous black glossy¬ 
looking cloak, which must 
have been very much too 
long in calm weather, as the 
wind, whistling round the 
old house, carried it 
clear out from the 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 29 


wearer’s shoulders to about 
four times his own length. 

Gluck was so perfectly 
paralyzed by the singular 
appearance of his visitor, 
that he remained fixed with¬ 
out uttering a word, until 
the old gentleman, having 
performed another, and a 
more energetic concerto on 
the knocker, turned round to 
look after his fly-away cloak. 
In so doing he caught sight 
of Gluck’s little yellow head 1 
jammed in the window, with 
its mouth and eyes very wide 
open indeed. 

“Hollo!” said the little 
gentleman, “that’s not 
the way to answer the 


30 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


door: I’m wet, let me in!” 

To do the little gentleman justice, he 
was wet. His feather hung down be¬ 
tween his legs like a beaten puppy’s tail, 
dripping like an umbrella; and from the 
ends of his mustaches the water was 
running into his waistcoat pockets, and 
out again like a mill stream. 

“I beg pardon, sir,” said Gluck, “I’m 
very sorry, but I really can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” said the old gentle¬ 
man. 

“I can’t let you in, sir,—I can’t in¬ 
deed; my brothers would beat me to 
death, sir, if I thought of such a thing. 
What do you want, sir?” 

“Want?” said the old gentleman, 
petulantly. “I want fire, and shelter; 
and there’s your great fire there blaz¬ 
ing, crackling, and dancing on the walls, 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


31 



with nobody to feel it. Let me in, I 
say; I only want to warm myself.” 

Gluck had had his head, by this time, 
so long out of the window, that he be¬ 
gan to feel it was really unpleasantly 
cold, and when he turned, and saw the 
beautiful fire rustling and roaring, and 
throwing long bright tongues up the 
chimney, as if it were licking its chops 
at the savory smell of the leg of mut¬ 
ton, his heart melted within him that it 




32 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


should be burning away for nothing. 
“He does look very wet,” said little 
Gluck; “I’ll just let him in for a quarter 
of an hour.” Round he went to the 
door, and opened it, and as the little 
gentleman walked in, there came a gust 
of wind through the house, that made 
the old chimneys totter. 

“That’s a good boy,” said the little 
gentleman. “Never mind your brothers. 
I’ll talk to them.” 

“Pray, sir, don’t do any such thing,” 
said Gluck, “I can’t let you stay till they 
come; they’d be the death of me.” 

“Dear me,” said the old gentleman, 
“I’m very sorry to hear that. How long 
may I stay?” 

“Only till the mutton’s done, sir,” re¬ 
plied Gluck, “and it’s very brown.” 

Then the old gentleman walked into 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 33 

the kitchen, and sat himself down on 
the hob, with the top of his cap accom¬ 
modated up the chimney, for it was a 
great deal too high for the roof. 

“You’ll soon dry there, sir,” said 
Gluck, and sat down again to turn the 
mutton. But the old gentleman did not 
dry there, but went on drip, drip, drip¬ 
ping among the cinders, and the fire 
fizzed and sputtered, and began to look 
very black, and uncomfortable; never 
was such a cloak; every fold in it ran 
like a gutter. 

“I beg pardon, sir,” said Gluck at 
length, after watching the water 
spreading in long, quicksilverlike 
streams over the floor for a quarter of 
an hour, “mayn’t I take your cloak?” 

“No, thank you,” said the old gentle¬ 


man. 


34 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


“Your cap, sir?” 

“I am all right, thank you,” said the 
old gentleman rather gruffly. 

“But—sir—I’m very sorry,” said 
Gluck hesitatingly; “but—really, sir— 
you’re—putting the fire out.” 

“It’ll take longer to do the mutton, 
then,” replied his visitor dryly. 

Gluck was very much puzzled by the 
behavior of his guest; it was such a 
strange mixture of coolness and hu¬ 
mility. He turned away at the string 
meditatively for another five minutes. 

“That mutton looks very nice,” said 
the old gentleman at length. “Can’t you 
give me a little bit?” 

“Impossible, sir,” said Gluck. 

“I’m very hungry,” continued the old 
gentleman; “I’ve had nothing to eat 
yesterday, nor today. They surely 





The old gentleman sat himself down on the hob, with the top 
of his cap accommodated up the chimney. 

35 
























































































. 









* 






. 


' 

















































































THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


37 


couldn’t miss a bit from the 
knuckle!” 

He spoke in so very mel¬ 
ancholy a tone, that it quite 
melted Gluck’s heart. “They promised 
me one slice to-day, sir,” said he; “I can 
give you that, but not a bit more.” 

“That’s a good boy,” said the old 
gentleman again. 

Then Gluck warmed a plate, and 
sharpened a knife. “I don’t care if I do 
get beaten for it,” thought he. Just as 
he had cut a large slice out of the mut¬ 
ton, there came a tremendous rap at the 
door. The old gentleman jumped off the 
hob, as if it had suddenly become incon¬ 
veniently warm. Gluck fitted the slice 
into the mutton again, with desperate 
efforts at exactitude, and ran to open 
the door. 





38 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


“What did you keep us waiting in the 
rain for?” said Schwartz, as he walked 
in, throwing his umbrella in Gluck’s 
face. “Ay! what for, indeed, you little 
vagabond?” said Hans, administering 
an educational box on the ear, as he 
followed his brother into the kitchen. 

“Bless my soul!” said Schwartz when 
he opened the door. 

“Amen,” said the little gentleman, 
who had taken his cap off and was 
standing in the middle of the kitchen, 
bowing with the utmost possible 
velocity. 

“Who’s that?” said Schwartz, catch¬ 
ing up a rolling-pin, and turning to 
Gluck with a fierce frown. 

“I don’t know, indeed, brother,” said 
Gluck in great terror. 

“How did he get in?’’ roared 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


39 



“Amen,” said the little gentleman. 


Schwartz. 

“My dear brother,” said Gluck, de- 
precatingly, “he was so very wet!” 

The rolling-pin was descending on 
Gluck’s head; but, at the instant, the 
old gentleman interposed his conical 
cap, on which it crashed with a shock 




40 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 



that shook the water out of it all over 
the room. What was very odd, the roll¬ 
ing-pin no sooner touched the cap, than 
it flew out of Schwartz’s hand, spinning 
like a straw in a high wind, and fell into 
the corner at the farther end of the 
room. 

“Who are you, sir?” demanded 
Schwartz, turning upon him. 

“What’s your business?” snarled 
Hans. 

“I’m a poor old man, sir,” the little 
gentleman began very modestly, “and 
I saw your fire through the window, 
and begged shelter for a quarter of an 
hour.” 

“Have the goodness to walk out 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


41 



again, then,” said Schwartz. “We’ve 
quite enough water in our kitchen, 
without making it a drying house.” 


“It is a cold day to turn an old man 
out in, sir; look at my gray hairs.” 
They hung down to his shoulders, as I 
told you before. 

“Ay!” said Hans, “there are enough 
of them to keep you warm. Walk!” 

“I’m very, very hungry, sir; 
couldn’t you spare me a bit of bread be¬ 
fore I go?” 

“Bread, indeed!” said Schwartz, “do 
you suppose we’ve nothing to do with 
our bread but to give it to such red¬ 
nosed fellows as you?” 

“Why don’t you sell your feather?” 


42 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


said Hans, sneeringly. “Out with you!” 

“A little bit,” said the old gentleman. 

“Be off!” said Schwartz. 

“Pray, gentlemen—” 

“Off and be hanged!” cried Hans, 
seizing him by the collar. But he had 
no sooner touched the old gentleman’s 
collar, then away he went after the roll¬ 
ing-pin, spinning round and round, till 
he fell into the corner on the top of it. 
Then Schwartz was very angry, and 
ran at the old gentleman to turn him 
out; but he also had hardly touched 
him, when away he went after Hans 
and the rolling-pin, and hit his head 
against the wall as he tumbled into the 
corner. And so there they lay all three. 

Then the old gentleman spun himself 
round with velocity in the opposite di¬ 
rection ; continued to spin until his long 



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There they lay all three. 



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THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


45 


cloak was all wound neatly about him; 
clapped his cap on his head, very much 
on one side (for it could not stand up¬ 
right without going through the ceil¬ 
ing) , gave an additional twist to his 
corkscrew mustaches, and replied with 
perfect coolness: “Gentlemen, I wish 
you a very good morning. At twelve 
o’clock tonight I’ll call again; after 
such a refusal of hospitality as I have 
just experienced, you will not be sur¬ 
prised if that visit is the last I ever pay 
you.” 

“If ever I catch you here again,” mut¬ 
tered Schwartz, coming, half fright¬ 
ened, out of the corner—but, before he 
could finish his sentence, the old gentle¬ 
man had shut the house door behind 
him with a great bang: and there drove 
past the window, at the same instant, 


46 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


a wreath of ragged cloud, that whirled 
and rolled away down the valley in all 
manner of shapes; turning over and 
over in the air, and melting away at last 
in a gush of rain. 

“A very pretty business, indeed, Mr. 
Gluck!” said Schwartz. “Dish the mut¬ 
ton, sir. If ever I catch you at such a 
trick again—bless me, why the mut¬ 
ton’s been cut!” 

“You promised me one slice, brother, 
you know,” said Gluck. 

“Oh! and you were cutting it hot, I 
suppose, and going to catch all the 
gravy. It’ll be long before I promise 
you such a thing again. Leave the 
room, sir; and have the kindness to wait 
in the coal-cellar till I call you.” 

Gluck left the room melancholy 
enough. The brothers ate as much mut- 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 47 



“W hat’s that?” cried Schwartz. 


ton as they could, locked the rest in the 
cupboard, and proceeded to get very 
drunk after dinner. 

Such a night as it was! Howling 
wind, and rushing rain, without inter¬ 
mission. The brothers had just sense 
enough left to put up all the shutters, 






48 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVE R 

and double bar the door, before they 
went to bed. They usually slept in the 
same room. As the clock struck twelve, 
they were both awakened by a tremen¬ 
dous crash. Their door brust open with 
a violence that shook the house from 
top to bottom. 

“What’s that?” cried Schwartz, start¬ 
ing up in his bed. 

“Only I,” said the little gentleman. 

The two brothers sat up on their bol¬ 
ster, and stared into the darkness. The 
room was full of water, and by a misty 
moonbeam, which found its way 
through a hole in the shutters, they 
could see in the midst of it an enormous 
foam globe, spinning round, and bob¬ 
bing up and down like a cork, on which, 
as on a most luxurious cushion, reclined 
the little old gentleman, cap and all. 



Reclined the little old gentleman, cap and all 

49 


























































































































































- % 
































vy 






















































































THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


51 


There was plenty of room for it now, 
for the roof was off. 

“Sorry to incommode you,” said their 
visitor, ironically. “I’m afraid your beds 
are dampish; perhaps you had better 
go to your brother’s room: I’ve left the 
ceiling on, there.” 

They required no second admonition, 
but rushed into Gluck’s room, wet 
through, and in an agony of terror. 

“You’ll find my card on the kitchen 
table,” the old gentleman called after 
them. “Remember, the last visit.” 

“Pray Heaven it may!” said 
Schwartz, shuddering. And the foam 
globe disappeared. 

Dawn came at last, and the two 
brothers looked out of Gluck’s window 
in the morning. The Treasure Valley 
was one mass of ruin and desolation. 




52 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


The inundation had swept away trees, 
crops, and cattle, and left in their stead 
a waste of red sand, and gray mud. The 
two brothers crept shivering and hor¬ 
ror-struck into the kitchen. The water 
had gutted the whole first floor; corn, 
money, almost every movable thing had 
been swept away, and there was left 
only a small white card on the kitchen 
table. On it, in large, breezy, long- 
legged letters, were engraved the 
words:— 




CHAPTER II. 


Of the Proceedings of the Three 
Brothers After the Visit of South- 
West Wind, Esquire; and How 
Little Gluck Had an Interview 
With the King of the Golden 
River 

S OUTH-WEST WIND, Esquire, 
was as good as his word. After the 
momentous visit above related, he en¬ 
tered the Treasure Valley no more; 
and, what was worse, he had so much 
influence with his relations, the West 
Winds in general, and used it so effectu¬ 
ally, that they all adopted a similar line 
of conduct. So no rain fell in the valley 
from one year’s end to another. Though 
everything remained green and flour- 
53 


54 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 



ALL their money was gone. 


ishing in the plains below, the inherit¬ 
ance of the Three Brothers was a des¬ 
ert. What had once been the richest 
soil in the kingdom, became a shifting 
heap of red sand; and the brothers, un¬ 
able longer to contend with the adverse 
skies, abandoned their valueless patri¬ 
mony in despair, to seek some means of 
gaining a livelihood among the cities 
and people of the plains. All their 
money was gone, and they had nothing 



“Suppose we turn 


goldsmiths” 


55 


























































































































































































































































































. I 




















































i. 











































































































THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


57 



left but some curious old- 
fashioned pieces of gold 
plates, the last remnants of 
their ill-gotten wealth. 

“Suppose we turn goldsmiths?” said 
Schwartz to Hans, as they entered the 
large city. “It is a good knave’s trade; 
we can put a great deal of copper into 
the gold, without any one’s finding it 
out.” 

The thought was agreed to be a very 
good one; they hired a furnace, and 
turned goldsmiths. But two slight cir¬ 
cumstances affected their trade: the 
first, that people did not approve of the 
coppered gold; the second, that the 
two elder brothers, whenever they had 
sold anything, used to leave 
little Gluck to mind the 
furnace, and go and drink 





58 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


out the money in the ale-house next 
door. So they melted all their gold, 
without making money enough to buy 
more, and were at last reduced to one 
large drinking mug, which an uncle of 
his had given to little Gluck, and which 
he was very fond of, and would not have 
parted with for the world, though he 
never drank anything out of it but milk 
and water. The mug was a very odd 
mug to look at. The handle was formed 
of two wreaths of flowing golden hair, 
so finely spun that it looked more like 
silk than metal, and these wreaths de¬ 
scended into, and mixed with, a beard 
and whiskers of the same exquisite 
workmanship, which surrounded and 
decorated a very fierce little face, of the 
reddest gold imaginable, right in the 
front of the mug, with a pair of eyes in 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


59 



Schwartz averred that once he had seen them wink! 


it which seemed to command its whole 
circumference. It was impossible to 
drink out of the mug without being sub¬ 
jected to an intense gaze out of the side 
of these eyes; and Schwartz positively 
averred, that once, after emptying it, 
full of Rhenish, seventeen times, he had 
seen them wink! When it came to the 






60 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 

mug’s turn to be made into spoons, it 
half broke poor little Gluck’s heart; but 
the brothers only laughed at him, 
tossed the mug into the melting-pot, 
and staggered out to the ale-house; 
leaving him, as usual to pour the gold 
into bars, when it was all ready. 

When they were gone, Gluck took a 
farewell look at his old friend in the 
melting pot. The flowing hair was all 
gone; nothing remained but the red 
nose, and the sparkling eyes, which 
looked more malicious than ever. “And 
no wonder,” thought Gluck, “after being 
treated in that way.” He sauntered dis¬ 
consolately to the window, and sat him¬ 
self down to catch the fresh evening air, 
and escape the hot breath of the fur¬ 
nace. Now this window commanded a 
direct view of the range of mountains, 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


61 



which, as I told you before, overhung 
the Treasure Valley, and more especial¬ 
ly of the peak from which fell the 
Golden River. It was just at the close 
of the day, and when Gluck sat down at 
the window, he saw the rocks of the 
mountain tops, all crimson and purple 
with the sunset; and there were bright 
tongues of fiery cloud burning and quiv¬ 
ering about them; and the river, 
brighter than all, fell, in a waving 




62 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


column of pure gold, from precipice to 
precipice, with the double arch of a 
broad purple rainbow stretched across 
it, flushing and fading alternately in the 
wreaths of spray. 

“Ah!” said Gluck aloud, after he had 
looked at it for a while, “if that river 
were really all gold, what a nice thing 
it would be.” 

“No, it wouldn’t, Gluck,” said a clear 
metallic voice, close at his ear. 

“Bless me! what’s that?” exclaimed 
Gluck, jumping up. There was nobody 
there. He looked round the room, and 
under the table, and a great many times 
behind him, but there was certainly no¬ 
body there, and he sat down again at 
the window. This time he didn’t speak, 
but he couldn’t help thinking again that 
it would be very convenient if the river 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


63 


were really all gold. 

“Not at all, my boy,” said the same 
voice, louder than before. 

“Bless me!” said Gluck again; “what 
is that?” He looked again into all the 
corners, and cupboards, and then began 
turning round, and round, as fast as he 
could in the middle of the room, think¬ 
ing there was somebody behind him, 
when the same voice struck again on 
his ear. It was singing now very mer¬ 
rily, “Lala-lira-la;” no words, only a 
soft running effervescent melody, some¬ 
thing like that of a kettle on the boil. 
Gluck looked out of the window. No, it 
was certainly in the house. Up-stairs, 
and down-stairs. No, it was certainly 
in that very room, coming in quicker 
time, and clearer notes, every moment. 
“Lala-lira-la.” All at once it struck 


64 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 

Gluck that it sounded louder near the 
furnace. He ran to the opening, and 
looked in; yes, he saw right, it seemed 
to be coming, not only out of the fur¬ 
nace, but out of the pot. He uncovered 
it, and ran back in a great fright, for 
the pot was certainly singing! He stood 
in the farthest corner of the room, with 
his hands up, and his mouth open, for a 
minute or two, when the singing 
stopped, and the voice became clear, 
and pronunciative. 

“Hollo!” said the voice. 

Gluck made no answer. 

“Hollo! Gluck, my boy,” said the pot 
again. 

Gluck summoned all his energies, 
walked straight up to the crucible, drew 
it out of the furnace, and looked in. The 
gold was all melted, and its surface as 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


65 


smooth and polished as a river; but in¬ 
stead of reflecting little Gluck’s head, as 
he looked in, he saw meeting his glance 
from beneath the gold the red nose and 
sharp eyes of his old friend of the mug, 
a thousand times redder and sharper 
than ever he had seen them in his life. 

“Come, Gluck, my boy,” said the 
voice out of the pot again, “I’m all 
right; pour me out.” 

But Gluck was too much astonished 
to do anything of the kind. 

“Pour me out, I say,” said the voice 
rather gruffly. 

Still Gluck couldn’t move. 

“Will you pour me out?” said the 
voice passionately. “I’m too hot.” 

By a violent effort, Gluck recovered 
the use of his limbs, took hold of the 
crucible, and sloped it so as to pour out 




66 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


the gold. But instead of a liquid stream, 
there came out, first a pair of pretty lit¬ 
tle yellow legs, then some coat tails, 
then a pair of arms stuck a-kimbo, and, 
finally, the well-known head of his 
friend the mug; all which articles, unit¬ 
ing as they rolled out, stood up ener¬ 
getically on the floor, in the shape of 
a little golden dwarf, about a foot and 
a half high. 

“That’s right!” said the dwarf, 
stretching out first his legs and then his 



THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


67 


arms, and then 
shaking his head up 
and down, and as 
far around as it 
would go, for five 
minutes, without stop¬ 
ping; apparently with the 
view of ascertaining if he 
were quite correctly put 
together, while Gluck 
stood contemplating him 
in speechless amazement. 

He was dressed in a 
slashed doublet of spun 
gold, so fine in its texture, 
that the prismatic colors 
gleamed over it, as if on a surface of 
mother of pearl; and, over this brilliant 
doublet, his hair and beard fell fully 
halfway to the ground, in waving curls. 





68 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


so exquisitely delicate that Gluck could 
hardly tell where they ended; they 
seemed to melt into air. The features 
of the face, however, were by no means 
finished with the same delicacy; they 
were rather coarse, slightly inclining 
to coppery in complexion, and indica¬ 
tive in expression, of a very pertina¬ 
cious and intractable disposition in 
their small proprietor. When the dwarf 
had finished his self-examination, he 
turned his small sharp eyes full on 
Gluck, and stared at him deliberately 
for a minute or two. “No, it wouldn’t, 
Gluck, my boy,” said the little man. 

This was certainly rather an abrupt 
and unconnected mode of commencing 
conversation. It might indeed be sup¬ 
posed to refer to the course of Gluck’s 
thoughts, which had first produced the 


/ 



“ That’s right!” said the dwarf, 

69 






























































THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


71 



The dwarf took two turns of three feet long. 


dwarf’s observations out of the pot; but 
whatever it referred to, Gluck had no 
inclination to dispute the dictum. 

“Wouldn’t it, sir?” said Gluck, very 
mildly and submissively indeed. 

“No,” said the dwarf, conclusively. 
“No, it wouldn’t.” And with that, the 
dwarf pulled his cap hard over his 




72 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


brows, and took two turns, of three feet 
long, up and down the room, lifting his 
legs up very high, and setting them 
down very hard. This pause gave time 
for Gluck to collect his thoughts a lit¬ 
tle, and, seeing no great reason to view 
his diminutive visitor with dread, and 
feeling his curiosity overcome his 
amazement, he ventured on a question 
of peculiar delicacy. 

“Pray, sir,” said Gluck rather hesitat¬ 
ingly, “were you my mug?” 

On which the little man turned sharp 
round, walked straight up to Gluck, and 
drew himself up to his full height. “I,” 
said the little man, “am the King of 
the Golden River.” Whereupon he 
turned about again, and took two more 
turns, some six feet long, in order to 
allow time for the consternation which 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 73 



“I am the King of the Golden River.” 


this announcement produced in his 
auditor to evaporate. After which, he 
again walked up to Gluck and stood 
still, as if expecting some comment on 
his communication. 

Gluck determined to say something 
at all events. “I hope your Majesty is 
very well,” said Gluck. 





74 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 

“Listen!” said the lit¬ 
tle man, deigning no re¬ 
ply to this polite inquiry. 
“I am the King of what 
you mortals call the 
Golden River. The shape 
you saw me in, was ow¬ 
ing to the malice of a 
stronger king, from 
whose enchantments you 
have this instant freed 
me. What I have seen of you, and your 
conduct to your wicked brothers, ren¬ 
ders me willing to serve you; therefore, 
attend to what I tell you. Whoever shall 
climb to the top of that mountain from 
which you see the Golden River issue, 
and shall cast into the stream at its 
source three drops of holy water, for 
him and for him only, the river shall 



“Oh!” cried poor 
Gluck. 




THE. KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 75 

turn to gold. But no one failing in his 
first, can succeed in a second attempt; 
and if any one shall cast unholy water 
into the river, it will overwhelm him, 
and he will become a black stone.” So 
saying, the King of the Golden River 
turned away and deliberately walked 
into the center of the hottest flame of 
the furnace. His figure became red, 
white, transparent, dazzling—a blaze of 
intense light—rose, trembled, and dis¬ 
appeared. The King of the Golden 
River had evaporated. 

“Oh!” cried poor Gluck, running to 
look up the chimney after him; “Oh, 
dear, dear, dear me! My mug! my mug! 
my mug!” 




CHAPTER III. 


How Mr. Hans Set Off on an Expedi¬ 
tion to the Golden River, and 
How He Prospered Therein. 

HE King of the Golden River 



had hardly made the extraor- 


y dinary exit related in the 
last chapter, before Hans and Schwartz 
came roaring into the house, very sav¬ 
agely drunk. The discovery of the total 
loss of their last piece of plate had the 
effect of sobering them just enough to 
enable them to stand over Gluck beat¬ 
ing him very steadily for a quarter of 
an hour; at the expiration of which 
period they dropped into a couple of 
chairs, and requested to know what he 
had to say for himself. Gluck told them 


76 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 77 



The two brothers drew their swords and began fighting. 


his story, of which, of course, they did 
not believe a word. They beat him 
again, till their arms were tired, and 
staggered to bed. In the morning, how¬ 
ever, the steadiness with which he ad¬ 
hered to his story obtained him some 
degree of credence; the immediate con¬ 
sequence of which was, that the two 










78 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


brothers, after wrangling a long time 
on the knotty question, which of them 
should try his fortune first, drew their 
swords and began fighting. The noise 
of the fray alarmed the neighbors, who, 
finding they could not pacify the com¬ 
batants, sent for the constable. 

Hans, on hearing this, contrived to 
escape, and hid himself; but Schwartz 
was taken before the magistrate, fined 
for breaking the peace, and, having 
drunk out his last penny the evening 
before, was thrown into prison till he 
should pay. 

When Hans heard this, he was much 
delighted, and determined to set out 
immediately for the Golden River. How 
to get the holy water was the question. 
He went to the priest, but the priest 
could not give any holy water to so 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


79 



Schwartz himself peeping out of the bars. 


abandoned a character. So Hans went 
to vespers in the evening for the first 
time in his life, and, under pretense of 
crossing himself, stole a cupful, and re¬ 
turned home in triumph. 

Next morning he got up before the 
sun rose, put the holy water into a 
strong flask, and two bottles of wine 
and some meat in a basket, slung them 
over his back, took his Alpine staff in 
his hand, and set off for the mountains. 

On his way out of the town he had 





















80 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


to pass the prison, and as he looked in 
at the windows, whom should he see 
but Schwartz himself peeping out of 
the bars, and looking very disconsolate. 

“Good morning, brother,” said Hans; 
“have you any message for the King of 
the Golden River?” 

Schwartz gnashed his teeth with 
rage, and shook the bars with all his 
strength; but Hans only laughed at him, 
and advising him to make himself com¬ 
fortable till he came back again, 
shouldered his basket, shook the bottle 
of holy water in Schwartz’s face till it 
frothed again, and marched off in the 
highest spirits in the world. 

It was, indeed, a morning that might 
have made any one happy, even with no 
Golden River to seek for. Level lines 
of dewy mist lay stretched along the 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 81 


valley, out of which rose the massy 
mountains—their lower cliffs in pale 
gray shadow, hardly distinguishable 
from the floating vapor, but gradually 
ascending till they caught the sunlight, 
which ran in sharp touches of ruddy 
color along the angular crags, and 
pierced, in long level rays, through 
their fringes of spear-like pine. Far 
above, shot up red splintered masses of 
castellated rock, jagged and shivered 
into myriads of fantastic forms, with 
here and there a streak of sunlit snow, 
traced down their chasms like a line of 
forked lightning; and, far beyond, and 
far above all these, fainter than the 
morning cloud, but purer and change¬ 
less, slept, in the blue sky, the utmost 
peaks of the eternal snow. 

The Golden River, which sprang 


82 THE KING OF THE GOL DEN, RIVER ~ 

from one of the lower and snowless ele¬ 
vations, was now nearly in shadow; all 
but the uppermost jets of spray, which 
rose like slow smoke above the undulat¬ 
ing line of the cataract, and floated 
away in feeble wreaths upon the morn¬ 
ing wind. 

On this object, and on this alone, 
Han’s eyes and thoughts were fixed; 
forgetting the distance he had to 
traverse, he set off at an imprudent 
rate of walking, which greatly ex¬ 
hausted him before he had scaled the 
first range of the green and low hills. 
He was, moreover, surprised, on sur¬ 
mounting them, to find that a large 
glacier, of whose existence, notwith¬ 
standing his previous knowledge of the 
mountains, he had been absolutely ig¬ 
norant, lay between him and the source 



..; r 


V.'iVm'. v« 


8JS 




wy/A 

WS& 


^■wm 




.feYmA-Z* 


■ 




Hans set off at an imprudent rate, 

83 


























































































* I 



































































• 


• 






















































THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


85 


of the Golden River. He entered on it 
with the boldness of a practised moun¬ 
taineer; yet he thought he had never 
traversed so strange or so dangerous a 
glacier in his life. The ice was exces¬ 
sively slippery, and out of all its chasms 
came wild sounds of gushing water; 
not monotonous or low, but changeful 
and loud, rising occasionally into drift¬ 
ing passages of wild melody, then 
breaking off into short melancholy 
tones, or sudden shrieks, resembling 
those of human voices in distress or 
pain. The ice was broken into thou¬ 
sands of confused shapes, but none, 
Hans thought, like the ordinary forms 
of splintered ice. There seemed a curi¬ 
ous expression about all their outlines 
—a perpetual resemblance to living fea¬ 
tures, distorted and scornful. Myriads 




86 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


of deceitful shadows, and lurid lights, 
played and floated about and through 
the pale blue pinnacles, dazzling and 
confusing the sight of the traveler; 
while his ears grew dull and his head 
giddy with the constant gush and roar 
of the concealed waters. These painful 
circumstances increased upon him as he 
advanced; the ice crashed and yawned 
into fresh chasms at his feet, tottering 
spires nodded around him, and fell 
thundering across his path; and 
though he had repeatedly faced these 
dangers on the most terrific glaciers, 
and in the wildest weather, it was with 
a new and oppressive feeling of panic 
terror that he leaped the last chasm, 
and flung himself, exhausted and shud¬ 
dering, on the firm turf of the moun¬ 
tain. 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


87 



Resemblance to living features, distorted and scornful. 

He had been compelled to abandon 
his basket of food, which became a 
perilous encumbrance on the glacier, 
and had now no means of refreshing 
himself but by breaking off and eating 
some of the pieces of ice. This, how¬ 
ever, relieved his thirst; an hour’s re- 































88 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


pose recruited his hardy frame, and 
with the indomitable spirit of avarice, 
he resumed his laborious journey. 

His way now lay straight up a ridge 
of bare red rocks, without a blade of 
grass to ease the foot, or a projecting 
angle to afford an inch of shade from 
the south sun. It was past noon, and 
the rays beat intensely upon the steep 
path, while the whole atmosphere was 
motionless, and penetrated with heat. 
Intense thirst was soon added to the 
bodily fatigue with which Hans was 
now afflicted; glance after glance he 
cast on the flask of water which hung 
at his belt. “Three drops are enough,” 
at last thought he; “I may, at least, 
cool my lips with it.” 

He opened the flask, and was raising 
it to his lips, when his eye fell on an ob- 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


89 



ject lying on the rock beside him; he 
thought it moved. It was a small dog, 
apparently in the last agony of death 
from thirst. Its tongue was out, its 
jaws dry, its limbs extended lifelessly, 
and a swarm of black ants were crawl¬ 
ing about its lips and throat. Its eye 
moved to the bottle which Hans held in 
his hand. He raised it, drank, spurned 
the animal with his foot, and passed on. 
And he did not know how it was, but 
he thought that a strange shadow had 
suddenly come across the blue sky. 

The path became steeper and more 
rugged every moment; and the high 
hill air, instead of refreshing him, 
seemed to throw his blood into a fever. 




90 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


The noise of the hill cataracts sounded 
like mockery in his ears; they were all 
distant, and his thirst increased every 
moment. Another hour passed, and he 
again looked down to the flask at his 
side; it was half empty, but there was 
much more than three drops in it. He 
stopped to open it; and again, as he did 
so, something moved in the path above 
him. It was a fair child, stretched near¬ 
ly lifeless on the rock, its breast heav¬ 
ing with thirst, its eyes closed, and its 
lips parched and burning. Hans eyed 
it deliberately, drank, and passed on. 
And a dark gray cloud came over the 
sun, and long, snake-like shadows crept 
up along the mountain sides. Hans 
struggled on. The sun was sinking, but 
its descent seemed to bring no cool¬ 
ness; the leaden weight of the dead air 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


91 


pressed upon his brow and heart, but 
the goal was near. He saw the cataract 
of the Golden River springing from the 
hillside, scarcely five hundred feet above 
him. He paused for a moment to 
breathe, and sprang on to complete his 
task. 

At this instant a faint cry fell on his 
ear. He turned, and saw a gray-haired 
old man extended on the rocks. His 
eyes were sunk, his features deadly 
pale, and gathered into an expression of 







92 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


despair. “Water!” he stretched his arms 
to Hans and cried feebly, “Water! I am 
dying.” 

“I have none,” replied Hans; “thou 
hast had thy share of life.” He strode 
over the prostrate body, and darted on. 
And a flash of blue lightning rose out of 
the East, shaped like a sword; it shook 
thrice over the whole heaven, and left it 
dark with one heavy, impenetrable 
shade. The sun was setting; it plunged 
toward the horizon like a red hot ball. 

The roar of the Golden River rose on 
Hans’s ear. He stood at the brink of the 
chasm through which it ran. Its waves 
were filled with the red glory of the 
sunset, they shook their crests like 
tongues of fire, and flashes of bloody 
light gleamed along their form. Their 
sound came mightier and mightier on 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 93 

his senses; his brain grew giddy with 
the prolonged thunder. Shuddering he 
drew the flask from his girdle, and 
hurled it into the centre of the torrent. 
As he did so, an icy chill shot through 
his limbs; he staggered, shrieked, and 
fell. The waters closed over his cry. 
And the moaning of the river rose 
wildly into the night, as it gushed over 

The Black Stone 


t 


CHAPTER IV. 


How Mr. Schwartz Set Off on an Expe¬ 
dition to the Golden River, and 
How He Prospered Therein. 

P OOR little Gluck waited very anxi¬ 
ously alone in the house for Hans’s 
return. Finding he did not come back, 
he was terribly frightened and went 
and told Schwartz in the prison, all that 
had happened. Then Schwartz was 
very much pleased, and said that Hans 
must certainly have been turned into a 
black stone, and he should have all the 
gold to himself. But Gluck was very 
sorry, and cried all night. When he got 
up in the morning there was no bread 
in the house, nor any money; so Gluck 
went and hired himself to another gold- 
94 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


95 


smith, and he worked so hard, and so 
neatly, and so long every day, that he 
soon got money enough together to pay 
his brother’s fine, and he went and gave 
it all to Schwartz, and Schwartz got 
out of prison. Then Schwartz was quite 
pleased, and said he should have some 
of the gold of the river. But Gluck only 
begged he would go and see what had 
become of Hans. 

Now when Schwartz had heard that 
Hans had stolen the holy water, he 
thought to himself that such a proceed¬ 
ing might not be considered altogether 
correct by the King of the Golden 
River, and determined to manage mat¬ 
ters better. So he took some more of 
Gluck’s money, and went to a bad 
priest, who gave him some holy water 
very readily for it. Then Schwartz was 




96 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


sure it was all quite right. So Schwartz 
got up early in the morning before the 
sun rose, and took some bread and wine 
in a basket, and put his holy water in a 
flask, and set off for the mountains. 
Like his brother, he was much surprised 
at the sight of the glacier, and had great 
difficulty in crossing it, even after leav¬ 
ing his basket behind him. The day was 
cloudless, but not bright; there was a 
heavy purple haze hanging over the 
sky, and the hills looked lowering and 
gloomy. And as Schwartz climbed the 
steep rock path, the thirst came upon 
him, as it had upon his brother, until he 
lifted his flask to his lips to drink. Then 
he saw the fair child lying near him on 
the rocks, and it cried to him, and 
moaned for water. 

“Water, indeed,” said Schwartz; “I 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


97 



haven’t half enough for myself,” and 
passed on. And as he went he thought 
the sunbeams grew more dim, and he 
saw a low bank of black cloud rising 
out of the West; and, when he had 
climbed for another hour the thirst 
overcame him again, and he would have 
drunk. Then he saw the old man lying 
before him on the path, and heard him 
cry out for water. “Water, indeed,” 
said Schwartz. “I haven’t half enough 
for myself,” and on he went. 

Then again the light seemed to fade 







98 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


before his eyes, and he looked up, and, 
behold, a mist, of the color of blood, 
had come over the sun; and the bank of 
black cloud had risen very high, and 
its edges were tossing and tumbling 
like the waves of the angry sea. And 
they cast long shadows, which flickered 
over Schwartz’s path. 

Then Schwartz climbed for another 
hour, and again his thirst returned; and 
as he lifted his flask to his lips, he 
thought he saw his brother Hans lying 
exhausted on the path before him, and, 
as he gazed, the figure stretched its 
arms to him, and cried for water. “Ha, 
ha,’’ laughed Schwartz, “are you there? 
remember the prison bars, my boy. 
Water, indeed! do you suppose I car¬ 
ried it all the way up here for you?” 
And he strode over the figure; yet, as 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 99 



He saw his brother Hans lying exhausted on the path. 


he passed, he thought he saw a strange 
expression of mockery about its lips. 
And, when he had gone a few yards far¬ 
ther, he looked back, but the figure was 
not there. 

And a sudden horror came over 
Schwartz, he knew not why; but the 










100 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


thirst for gold prevailed over his fear, 
and he rushed on. And the bank of 
black cloud rose to the zenith, and out 
of it came bursts of spiry lightning, and 
waves of darkness seemed to heave and 
float between their flashes over the 
whole heavens. And the sky where the 
sun was setting was all level, and like 
a lake of blood; and a strong wind came 
out of that sky, tearing its crimson 
cloud into fragments, and scattering 
them far into the darkness. And when 
Schwartz stood by the brink of the 
Golden River, its waves were black, like 
thunder clouds, but their foam was like 
fire; and the roar of the waters below, 
and the thunder above, met, as he cast 
the flask into the stream. And, as he 
did so, the lightning glared into his 
eyes, and the earth gave way beneath 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 101 


him, and the waters closed over his cry. 
And the moaning of the river rose wild¬ 
ly into the night, as it gushed over the 

Two Black Stones 





CHAPTER V. 


How Little Gluck Set Off on an Expe¬ 
dition to the Golden River, and How 
He Prospered Therein; With 
Other Matters of Interest. 



HEN Gluck found that 
Schwartz did not come 
back he was very sorry, and 


did not know what to do. He had no 
money, and was obliged to go and 
hire himself again to the goldsmith, 
who worked him very hard, and gave 
him very little money. So, after a 
month or two, Gluck grew tired, and 
made up his mind to go and try his for¬ 
tune with the Golden River. “The little 
King looked very kind,” thought he. “I 
don’t think he will turn me into a black 


102 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 103 



The priest gave him some holy water. 


stone.” So he went to the priest, and 
the priest gave him some holy water as 
soon as he asked for it. Then Gluck 
took some bread in his basket, and the 
bottle of water, and set off very early 
for the mountains. 

If the glacier had occasioned a great 




















104 THE KING OF TH E GOLDEN RIVER 

deal of fatigue to his brothers, it was 
twenty times worse for him, who was 
neither so strong nor so practised on 
the mountains. He had several bad 
falls, lost his basket and bread, and was 
very much frightened at the strange 
noises under the ice. He lay a long 
time to rest on the grass, after he had 
got over, and began to climb the hill 
just in the hottest part of the day. 
When he had climbed for an hour, he 
got dreadfully thirsty, and was going 
to drink like his brothers, when he saw 
an old man coming down the path 
above him, looking very feeble, and 
leaning on a staff. “My son,” said the 
old man, “I am faint with thirst, give 
me some of that water.” Then Gluck 
looked at him, and when he saw that he 
was pale and weary, he gave him the 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 105 



water; “Only pray 
^don’t drink it all,” said 
Gluck. But the old 
man drank a great 
deal, and gave him 
back the bottle two-thirds 
empty. Then he bade him 
good speed, and Gluck went 
on again merrily. And the 
path became easier to his feet, and two 
or three blades of grass appeared upon 
it, and some grasshoppers began sing¬ 
ing on the bank beside it; and Gluck 
thought he had never heard such merry 
singing. 

Then he went on for another hour, 
and the thirst increased on | 
him so that he thought he 


should be forced to drink. 
But, as he raised the flask, 






106 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


he saw a little child lying panting by the 
roadside, and it cried out piteously for 
water. Then Gluck struggled with him¬ 
self, and determined to bear the thirst a 
little longer; and he put the bottle to the 
child’s lips, and it drank it all but a few 
drops. Then it smiled on him, and 
got up and ran down the hill; and Gluck 
looked after it, till it became as small as 
a little star, and then turned and began 
climbing again. And then there were all 
kinds of sweet flowers growing on the 
rocks, bright green moss with pale pink 
starry flowers, and soft belled gentians, 
more blue than the sky at its deepest, 
and pure white transparent lilies. And 
crimson and purple butterflies darted 
hither and thither, and the sky sent 
down such pure light, that Gluck had 
never felt so happy in his life. 


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THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 109 


Yet, when he had climbed for another 
hour, his thirst became intolerable 
again; and, when he looked at his bot¬ 
tle, he saw that there were only five or 
six drops left in it, and he could not 
venture to drink. And, as he was hang¬ 
ing the flask to his belt again, he saw a 
little dog lying on the rocks, gasping 
for breath—just as Hans had seen it on 
the day of his ascent. And Gluck 
stopped and looked at it, and then at 
the Golden River, not five hundred 
yards above him; and he thought of the 
dwarf’s words, “that no one could suc¬ 
ceed, except in his first attempt”; and 
he tried to pass the dog, but it whined 
piteously, and Gluck stopped again. 
“Poor beastie,” said Gluck, “it’ll be dead 
when I come down again, if I don’t help 




110 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


it.” Then he looked closer and closer at 
it, and its eye turned on him so mourn¬ 
fully, that he could not stand it. “Con¬ 
found the King and his gold too,” said 
Gluck; and he opened the flask, and 
poured all the water into the dog’s 
mouth. 

The dog sprang up and stood on its 
hind legs. Its tail disappeared, its ears 
became long, longer, silky, golden; its 
nose became very red, its eyes became 
very twinkling; in three seconds the 
dog was gone, and before Gluck stood 
his old acquaintance, the King of the 
Golden River. 

“Thank you,” said the monarch; “but 
don’t be frightened, it’s all right;” for 
Gluck showed manifest symptoms of 
consternation at this unlooked-for reply 
to his last observation. “Why didn’t you 




THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 111 



The dog sprang up. 

come before,” continued the dwarf, “in¬ 
stead of sending me those rascally 
brothers of yours, for me to have the 
trouble of turning into stones? Very 
hard stones they make too.” 

“Oh dear me!” said Gluck, “have you 
really been so cruel?” 









112 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


“Cruel!” said the dwarf; “they 
poured unholy water into my stream; 
do you suppose I’m going to allow 
that?” 

“Why,” said Gluck, “I am sure, sir,— 
your Majesty, I mean,—they got the 
water out of the church font.” 

“Very probably,” replied the dwarf; 
“but,” and his countenance grew stern 
as he spoke, “the water which has been 
refused to the cry of the weary and dy¬ 
ing, is unholy, though it had been 
blessed by every saint in heaven; and 
the water which is found in the vessel 
of mercy is holy, though it had been de¬ 
filed with corpses.” 

So saying, the dwarf stooped and 
plucked a lily that grew at his feet. On 
its white leaves there hung three drops 
of clear dew. And the dwarf shook 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 113 


them into the flask which Gluck held in 
his hand. “Cast these into the river,” 
he said, “and descend on the other side 
of the mountains into the Treasure Val¬ 
ley. And so good speed.” 

As he spoke, the figure of the dwarf 
became indistinct. The playing colors 
of his robe formed themselves into a 
prismatic mist of dewy light: he stood 
for an instant veiled with them as with 
the belt of a broad rainbow. The colors 
grew faint, the mist rose into the air; 
the monarch had evaporated. 

And Gluck climbed to the brink of the 
Golden River, and its waves were as 
clear as crystal, and as brilliant as the 
sun. And, when he cast the three drops 
of dew into the stream, there opened 
where they fell, a small circular whirl¬ 
pool, into which the waters descended 




114 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


with a musical noise. 

Gluck stood watching it for some 
time, very much disappointed, because 
not only the river was not turned into 
gold, but its waters seemed much di¬ 
minished in quantity. Yet he obeyed 
his friend the dwarf, and descended the 
other side of the mountains, towards 
the Treasure Valley; and, as he went, 
he thought he heard the noise of water 
working its way under the ground. And, 
when he came in sight of the Treasure 
Valley, behold, a river, like the Golden 
River, was springing from a new cleft 
of the rocks above it, and was flowing 
in innumerable streams among the dry 
heaps of red sand. 

And as Gluck gazed, fresh grass 
sprang beside the new streams, and 
creeping plants grew, and climbed 


THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 115 


among the moistening soil. Young 
flowers opened suddenly along the river 
sides, as stars leap out when twilight is 
deepening, and thickets of myrtle, and 
tendrils of vine, cast lengthening shad¬ 
ows over the valley as they grew. And 
thus the Treasure Valley became a 
garden again, and the inheritance, 
which had been lost by cruelty, was 
regained by love. 

And Gluck went, and dwelt in the val¬ 
ley, and the poor were never driven 
from his door; so that his barns became 
full of corn, and his house of treasure. 
And, for him, the river had, according 
to the dwarf’s promise, become a River 
of Gold. 

And, to this day, the inhabitants of 
the valley point out the place where the 
three drops of holy dew were cast into 


116 THE KING OF THE GOLDEN RIVER 


the stream, and trace the course of the 
Golden River under the ground, until it 
emerges in the Treasure Valley. And 
at the top of the cataract of the Golden 
River, are still to be seen Two Black 
Stones, round which the waters howl 
mournfully every day at sunset; and 
these stones are still called by the peo¬ 
ple of the valley 

The Black Brothers 










































































































































BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE 


John Ruskin, the author of The King 
of the Golden River, was one of the 
great artists and critical thinkers of the 
last century. He was born in London, 
February 8, 1819, the only child of John 
James Ruskin and Margaret Cox. 

His parents were of Scotch descent, 
related to the Adairs and Agnews of 
Galloway, families that have given their 
full quota of famous and able men in 
warfare and public service. 

His father, John James Ruskin, was a 
typical Scot of remarkable energy and 
ability. Beginning as a clerk in Lon¬ 
don, he founded and successfully oper¬ 
ated the firm of Ruskin, Telford and 
Domecq, which became under his wise 


119 


control one of the great mercantile 
firms of London. At his home were fre¬ 
quent gatherings of men and women 
interested in art and literature, for 
John James Ruskin was interested in 
both. 

Mrs. Ruskin was a handsome, strong, 
stern, able and devoted woman of the 
old puritan school, unsparing of herself 
and others, inflexable in her ideas of 
duty. Under her care the child, John 
Ruskin, was brought up under a rigid 
system of training, physical, moral and 
intellectual. 

In such a household John Ruskin 
grew up, carefully watched night and 
day, rigidly disciplined, but trained 
from infancy in music, drawing, the 
love of literature and beauty. 

The boy himself was a strange, quiet, 


120 


lonely little fellow. He had no play¬ 
mates and few playthings, but he could 
entertain himself for hours at a time by 
drawing, or observing from his window 
the happenings in the street. 

A lover of nature from the first, his 
love was cultivated and nourished by 
the many journeys that he was given in 
his early adolescence through France, 
Belgium, Germany and Switzerland. 
His youth was passed largely in sys¬ 
tematic travelling in search of every¬ 
thing that was beautiful in nature. 

At an early age Ruskin began to 
write under the encouraging criticism 
of his father and mother. His parents 
spent many hours in reading to him the 
works of great authors from which at 
an early age he began to learn an appre¬ 
ciation of literature. 


121 


His mother, who wished him to be¬ 
come a clergyman, daily gave him les¬ 
sons in the Bible, much of which he 
committed to memory. It was hard 
work, but profitable; for the haunting 
poetic language of the Bible taught him 
the beauty of phrases and majestic 
images, and made him the master of 
English prose that he became. 

Ruskin’s first endeavors were in the 
form of poetry. At the age of seven he 
wrote his first poem, perfect in form 
and rhyme, if not a masterpiece of 
lyricism. Up to the age of twenty he 
wrote voluminously, lyric poetry, 
romantic, dramatic. While none of it 
showed any special talent, his poems 
were notable for their restraint and re¬ 
finement, their invariable good taste. 

His schooling was irregular and not 


122 


successful, but at last he entered Ox¬ 
ford. His career there, while neither re¬ 
markable nor notable, was far from 
being ignoble. His work was accurate 
and painstaking. 

At the age of twenty-four, Ruskin be¬ 
gan his career as a critic and writer 
with Modern Painters, volume one, a 
defense of the work of the English 
painter, Turner. It had an immediate 
success although it was received coldly 
by the painters and vigorously attacked 
by the critics. This was followed by 
The Seven Lamps of Architecture, an 
elaborate work on architecture. 

It was at this time, April 10, 1848, 
that he married Euphemia Chalmers 
Gray, the young lady for whom The 
King of the Golden River was written. 

From that time on, book followed 


123 


book until John Ruskin was firmly 
established as one of the greatest mas¬ 
ters of prose that England has ever had. 

In 1869 he was elected Slade pro¬ 
fessor of Art in the University of Ox¬ 
ford, a post that he held until 1879, 
when he retired because of broken 
health. 

Thereafter he retired to his home at 
Brantwood and began his last work, 
Praeterita, a desultory autobiography 
full of personal anecdotes and remini¬ 
scences. 

It was at Brantwood that he died 
January 20, 1900; and he was buried in 
Coniston church graveyard by his ex¬ 
press wish, despite the offer of a place 
in Westminster Abbey. 

Of his literary achievements perhaps 
those that rank highest are Sesame and 


124 


Lilies, Modern Painters, Stones of 
Venice, The Crown of Wild Olive and 
Fors Clavigera; but none of them will 
endear him more to his readers than his 
short and deprecated tale, The King of 
the Golden River. 



125 




























































































































































































































































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